


Worth Your Weight in Gold

by slushiepuff



Category: The New Pope (TV), The Young Pope (TV)
Genre: Foot Fetish, Foot Massage, M/M, Rated N
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:48:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27555613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slushiepuff/pseuds/slushiepuff
Summary: A foot bath and massage at the end of the day is a lovely way relax and recharge. Bernardo isn't certain how relaxed he is at the moment, though.
Relationships: Mario Assente/Bernardo Gutiérrez
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	Worth Your Weight in Gold

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SaintMalone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaintMalone/gifts).



> So I started out writing this as a little drabble for [SaintMalone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaintMalone/profile) (to whom titling credits go to) and then... I don't know what happened.
> 
> This was a result of the TYP/TNP Discord discussing domestic Mario/Bernardo shenanigans.

Bernardo's skin is soft and lightly pruned from having soaked in the water and the faint scent of lavender clings to his left foot as it is picked up and pat dry in Mario's reverent grip. He is so gentle that the towel on the arch of his foot feels almost ticklish.

He supports the appendage by the arch with one hand and continues to focus entirely on his task with the other as Bernardo looks down upon him with a soft flush to his pale cheeks. Each toe is given far more than a spare moment and the towel is pressed into the nail just so to make sure all moisture is dabbed from the cuticle and the edges of the nail bed. Mario then tucks his covered fingers under the short digits to gather any water left at each bend. 

The towel is folded over his foot with an elegance Bernardo has long associated with the man knelt before him and he begins the process of drying the sensitive skin between the toes with his thumb and forefinger. He starts between the hallux and index toe and the resulting flex of the toes can be helped as little as the shiver that travels from them through the arch of his foot, up his calf and all the way up his spine.

Mario’s lovely, elegant fingers still as he processes Bernardo’s reaction and blatancy of what it means. His lips part just the smallest amount to tease the world with the deep red inside of his mouth. Bernardo is certain he’s going to drop the limb back into the basin with a splash, but with the smallest lick of the lips and an accompanying exhale, Mario simply continues on, eyes still focused on his task and deliberately paying no mind to the effect he is having on Bernardo.

And so, three more times he has to sit and suffer the trembling in his body.

It’s almost a relief when the towel travels up and over his ankle one more time for a cursory pat dry. He thinks his foot is going to be placed on the cool floor next to the basin only to be proven wrong when Mario maneuvers his foot onto his shoulder, Achilles Heel nestled between a surprisingly defined deltoid and trapezius, his most vulnerable point safe against his devotee. It’s not the most comfortable position, he can feel the stretch in his hamstring, but all is made up for with a hand closing over his leg, just above his ankle, and the touch of lips to the protrusion of bone below it. He’s certain Mario can feel the slight spasm in his calf as he desperately tries to remain still, the armrests bearing the brunt of his efforts.

And even though Mario has yet to look up at him, there is no hiding the shaky breath he takes nor the stuttered exhalation on his skin. He knows then that Mario is just as affected as he is, although his composure remains almost entirely intact.

Bernardo’s own composure is nearly lost as Mario presses his lips once again to the ball of his ankle, his eyelashes are seductively low as he watches Bernardo from the corner of his eye, this time however his mouth opens and then closes over it. The wet heat of the inside of Mario’s sweep lips drag over his skin with a slow reverence that is tantamount to worship and while that alone is already enough to suffocate him with heat, it is the faintest touch of tongue that breaks his resolve.

With a throb of warmth that settles low in his stomach, Bernardo’s leg jerks and pulls Mario forward, that much closer to the armchair on which he is seated. It is now the base of his calf that rests on Mario’s sculpted shoulder.

Mario whose eyes have flown open at being pulled in so suddenly. Mario whose eyes have gained a somewhat glassy quality to them as they stare forward and very deliberately through Bernardo. Mario who closes his eyes with a deep breath to fight off the dark blush adorning his cheeks, he is thankfully unsuccessful as Bernardo is certain he’s never seen a more charming sight.

Blush now permanently staining his cheeks, Mario leaves Bernardo’s leg dangling over his shoulder and instead turns his attention to the other foot still soaking in the lukewarm water. Rather than immediately rebeginning the process of drying, Mario expertly wraps the towel around the foot and settles it in his lap so his hands are free to move the basin aside. 

With the basin out of the way he is able to shuffle closer so that he is no longer leaning forward to support Bernardo’s leg. And while he can’t have moved more than a few centimetres, the air between them suddenly feels infinitely more intimate.


End file.
